Summit 11-year-old rock star attributes national success to N.J. School of Rock

While his classmates hit the public swimming pool, Chris Cummings spent a solid week of his last summer vacation touring rock clubs.

The cub drummer from Summit has performed with heavy metal singer Joe Lynn Turner and synthesizer pioneer Bernie Worrell.

He cut tracks for former Yes frontman Jon Anderson’s next solo disc.

Cummings already has plenty to boast to other rockers about — and he’s only 11 years old.

He wasn’t homesick, and he wasn’t intimidated by audiences.

He was ready to rock.

"I loved the experience of being on the road," says the young musician. "I got to be on a plane for the first time. At B.B. King’s in New York, I played for a huge crowd."

Chris Cummings’ talent is apparent to everybody who watches him hit the skins. But it was his enrollment in the School of Rock that opened the doors to these experiences. Many know the rock school from the Jack Black comedy movie that was inspired by it, but Cummings’ relationship to it is no joke. He’s the youngest participant in the school’s All Stars, a program that selects the best students from 58 schools across the country, hammers them into a tight performing unit, and lands them high-profile gigs on professional stages.

Enrollment in the School of Rock is open to any kid with a yen to rock and a parent willing to pay the fee. Admission into the All Stars, by contrast, is highly competitive.

Guitarist Andrew Schwartz, who most recently played on Broadway in "Hair," was impressed by what he saw at a performance at the Bergen Performing Arts Center: students from the local school jamming with Mountain guitarist Lesley West, and making their musical abilities manifest.

Still, Schwartz, the coordinator of the Music Business Program at New Jersey City University, had to wonder whether the rise of tuition-based rock schools was a sign of troubled times. "We’ve suffered enormously from state budget cuts," says Schwartz, 57, "and music is always the first thing to go. Much of the encouragement to play traditional orchestral instruments isn’t there anymore. Many parents are now weaned on rock, and ignore other forms of music," says Schwartz. "Are School of Rock parents seeing their way back to the public school system and demanding that all arts be taught?"

11 year old drummer prepares to hit the Manhattan stage

11 year old drummer prepares to hit the Manhattan stageSummit's Chris Cummings is only 11 years old, but he is a veteran of rock n' roll, having played gigs up and down the East Coast. On Sunday he and his bandmates from the Chatham School of Rock took the stage at the Highline Ballroom in Manhattan. Video by John Munson/The Star-Ledger

Cummings is not waiting for an answer. He’s taken three years of rigorous one-on-one drum lessons with Berklee-trained Jersey rock veteran Mike Addesso, and believes this is just the beginning of a long run under the stagelights.

"I was born to play the drums. I started banging on things when I was months old. Of course I’m going to keep on rocking," Cummings says.

He might be distinguished by his skill, but he’s not alone in his hopes. It’s fair to guess that kids who enroll in the year-round program, which has more locations in New Jersey than in any other state, harbor fantasies of rock and roll longevity and stardom.

Yet School of Rock hasn’t produced a genuine rock star. The qualities that turn a tyro with an instrument into a nationally recognized musician probably cannot be taught in a classroom, no matter how accomplished, or cool, the teacher is.

Mothers and fathers raised on ‘70s classics no longer share their own parents’ distaste for rock ambitions — in fact, many are closet rockers themselves who encourage their kids’ aspirations. Tuition varies, averaging $300 a month for the basic program of weekly 45-minute private lessons and regular jam sessions.

Is this money well spent by a parent who dreams of seeing her child on a professional stage? A decade after the opening of the first School of Rock in Philadelphia, it’s worth asking: Is the enterprise fulfilling its implicit mission as an incubator of new pop talent?

The rock school does foster arena-size dreams, but it also introduces students to the unglamorous side of the music industry: touring, coordination, sweat, and lots of practice. Charisma is elusive — chops can be taught.

After recognizing her son’s skills, Kim Soden, Chris Cummings’ mother, found School of Rock an easy choice. And yet as a student of rock history, she’s well aware of the dark side of popular music.

"I do worry sometimes," says Soden. Late Led Zeppelin drummer "John Bonham is a huge influence on Chris. We’ve watched ‘The Song Remains the Same’ together, and talked about Bonham’s substance abuse. From the beginning, we’ve been clear that it’s got to be about the music, and not about the lifestyle. I tell him that if he can keep his head straight, he can stay above all of that, and build a career in a wonderful business."

Students now stepping onto professional stages share Cummings’ dedication.

"Without School of Rock, I would not be playing music. It’s as simple as that," says Ryan Wheeler, 21, who attended the Monmouth County branch of the school in Red Bank (it has since moved to Matawan). He now plays bass in Outside the Box, an Asbury Music Award-winning rock outfit that has been twice named the summer house band at the Stone Pony.

The school tries to inscribes old-fashioned rock values on the developing minds of young musicians.

Those who’ve been through the program speak highly of the School of Rock’s emphasis on discipline and presentation, and they’re beginning to apply those lessons on smaller professional stages.

Madi Diaz, a graduate of the Philadelphia School of Rock, is now a Nashville-based pop songwriter with a publishing deal and a solo album to her name. Members of Dr. Dog, a popular East Coast jam band (and a favorite of My Morning Jacket’s Jim James), learned their moves at that same School.

Basking Ridge rocker Mike Place is another of those graduates. The drummer and School of Rock All Star, who attended classes at the Chatham branch, recently shared a bill with the Jonas Brothers at the Jones Beach Amphitheatre.

Until commercial lightning strikes, musicians make very little money. It would take many sold-out gigs at the Stone Pony just to pay back the school’s tuition. But, the sense of camaraderie among current and former students is genuine, and School of Rock has engendered a community of musicians with shared experiences and similar training. That’s especially true in New Jersey, where as little as 10 miles separate some of the nine Schools.

"There is a definite kinship with other bands formed from School of Rock," says Wheeler. "I feel like I made a lot of lifelong friends there. Outside the Box has played a couple of shows with bands that are made up of either all or mostly School of Rock kids."

At least one of those kids has already stood in a coveted spotlight. This May, Will Taggart, a student at School of Rock Chatham, took the stage at the gigantic Bamboozle Festival. Rapid Fire, a hard rock band that showcased his dextrous guitar playing, beat out 500 other groups to win the right to rock the Meadowlands parking lot.

Taggart quit Rapid Fire recently, but he has no intention of leaving music behind. "I am going to keep on playing guitar, and playing in bands," says Taggart, 15. "There’s so much I want to do, but being a touring and recording musician — that’s top of the list right there."